The Ornamental Plum was the first to blossom. The deep pink leaves and floaty pink white flowers broke through the gray of winter, making way for the flood of color that would come rushing, soon.

When the Redbud arrives, its bright clusters of perfectly pink, and perfectly sour blossoms dance on the naked branches, then I know it’s true. Spring is here, and with it the kitchen and the palette come alive.

Not a real pear.

And disliked, I’m told, dangerously shaped.

But when the snow flakes are instead petals dancing their way to the earth, I hold hold out my fingers, for a delicate catch, and for a moment, covet.